


tastes so bitter (feels so sweet)

by ecriteuse



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/F, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Revenge, Sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5139431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecriteuse/pseuds/ecriteuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily has just come out, and she's generous with girls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tastes so bitter (feels so sweet)

Emily was generous with girls.

Whenever she heard her mother crying in the kitchen over her ‘loss’, whenever her mother looked at her with that _look_ , whenever her mother pretended that Maya was better off at that camp, Emily thought of how fucking amazing it felt to make a girl come – or to come herself. She’d gotten good at muffling her moans and screams in her pillow the wetter she got ( _the more she thought of Maya_ ), but it wasn’t _gay_ enough for Emily, not anymore.

Her mother might look at her like she was unclean, tainted... no, _dirty_. She had no idea how dirty Emily really was. Because Emily wasn’t afraid anymore: she was out now, and she attracted girls. Girls who were virgins. Girls who’d never come before. Girls with inattentive boyfriends. Closeted girls. Girls who just wanted to know what it was _like_ to have a girl make love to them. Girls, girls, girls. Crazy beautiful girls. And Emily fucked them all so she could think of their quaking bodies, their wet pussies, their hard nipples, their hourglass figures every time she felt the weight of her mother’s disdain. Emily ate out so many, fingered what felt like hundreds, was brought over the edge herself by some of the more adventurous – behind the bleachers, in the girl’s loos, down side streets, in empty classrooms, bedrooms, at parties…

Yes, generous was the word. Emily gave more than she took with Spencer, and Arya, and Hanna (until she had Mona in her bed).

 

The first of Emily’s friends to crack was Spencer.

It started at a party, like these things always do. Emily had found herself being humped by a girl – Katy? Carey? Cassey? – who was too drunk to make reasoned judgements on who to sleep with but she was so fucking desperate Emily couldn’t deny her.

They’d barely made it upstairs when Emily slammed the girl against the wall and went down on her, pulling her panties away from her slick pussy and working her tongue around her clit, thrusting her fingers inside that tight, sweet pussy whilst rubbing her own with her free hand. This girl was the noisiest sex partner Emily had ever had, moaning and gasping and panting – “god, Drake, so good – _there_ , you fuckboy, don’t stop” – from the very first lick. And, well, why stop when this girl was such a slut for it ( _for her_ )? It was just an orgasm. So Emily kept going, kept working, with this drunk girl’s hands fisted in her hair until she came all over Emily’s face with a cry.

When Emily pulled her head out from under the girl’s skirt, cum streaked around her mouth, there was a movement out of the corner of her eye. It was Spencer. Spencer, mouth half-open, rooted to the spot, her hand frozen on the waistband of her trousers.

“Oh, _Drake_ ,” slurred the drunk girl, and Spencer turned tomato red, turned, and fled down the stairs.

Emily wiped at her mouth. Spencer had been all set to get herself of on that little display. Poor girl. Of all of Emily's friends it was uptight, competitive, pent-up too-proud Spencer who needed a shattering orgasm the most.

When it came down to it, when Spencer’s pride slipped away ( _it was so easy to break_ ) and she choked out, “I want you to fuck me like you fucked Cassey”, Emily already knew how to make it even better. First, they both got naked. And then they got in the power shower under a too-hot stream of water and Emily fucked Spencer’s brains out with relish. Spencer unravelling was way more delicious than she'd imagined ( _thought about it for hours, with her fingers massaging her clit_ ), but  Spencer deserved more than one mindblowing orgasm.

Deep, dark satisfaction thrummed through Emily's veins when she unhooked the shower faucet and held it, spray-up, between Spencer's legs. It surprised her, but the pressure of the water right _there_  made Spencer delerious in moments. God, how it made her beg. Spencer Hastings, _begging_. Whining.

“Aren’t you a good girl, Spence.” A bitch in heat. “So close…”

“Yes – fuck yes – unh, unh, _fuck_ –”

Exploding. Crumpling into generous Emily’s arms.

 

Second there was Arya. Emily hadn’t meant to fuck her – Arya had Ezra. But that was all Arya talked about. Ezra, and how she wanted to have sex with him. How she was petrified because she hadn’t done it before. How she wasn’t sure she would even be able to come with a dick up her pussy. And in the end, Emily grew sick of it.

How Arya had flushed when she pulled a dildo out of her schoolbag.

She’d protested at first, half-heartedly, but Emily wasn’t taking no for an answer. She kept peeling off Arya’s floaty clothes, kept kissing her, kept encouraging her to _want_ and although there was a moment when Emily hesitated and pulled back, that was when she saw how horny Arya was ( _always so emotional_ ). Then it was _Arya_ who slammed their lips together, who made their tongues dance, who groped at Emily’s breasts, who told Emily to take off her clothes, _now_.

Arya just wanted it so much that she couldn’t stop. At first, Emily took her time with her, whispering filthy things in her ear that she thought Ezra right say, barely touching Arya’s milk-white, unblemished skin. Just talking. Arya caught on so quickly ( _a creative soul_ ), so well, calling her Ezra, always begging for that dick to fill her up and fuck her hard. She had already been hit by those soft, half-orgasms twice before Emily flipped her onto her front and slid two fingers inside her pussy, one after the other, and the lust in Arya’s moans – “ _please_ , Ezra” – made the heat between Emily’s legs flare up. And when the dildo went in, when Arya had to muffle a scream of delight in her duvet… _fuck_ , Emily just had to shove her fingers – the fingers slick with Arya’s cum – into her own pussy and ride them, pushing them in and out in time with the dildo she pushed in and out of Arya.

Arya was even better than slutty Spencer, rutting back onto the dildo frantically, her hands clawing into the duvet, head thrown back now (“yes, _fuck_ , so fucking good, _yes_ —”), and it was so fucking hot that Emily’s vision was smearing—

“ _I’m coming I’m coming Em fuck I’m_ —”

—and then they were both sprawled on top of each other, spent.

“ _Fuck_ , Em…”

Emily hummed her approval into Arya’s shoulder blade ( _that was what 'fucked mindless' should sound like_ ).

“What a good girl.” Emily pressed a kiss on to the nape of Arya’s neck, slowly wiped a trail of her cum down Arya’s back with her fingers… and then slid the dildo out. Arya, the poor pretty thing, whimpered.

 

Third there was Hanna. Spencer had been sexually frustrated. Arya had wanted a dick up her pussy. But Hanna wanted to _feel_ it, to know what it was that Sean wasn’t giving her. For that, Hanna had a special place in Emily’s heart.

She was so compliant. She let Emily tie her wrists to the bed; let Emily play the one sex tape of her and Maya on full volume and place the phone on the pillow beside her head. Emily had listened to that tape so many times in her head, through her phone, on her laptop, that she knew what Hanna was responding to when she moaned, or whimpered, or tried to gain a little purchase so she could rub her pussy against the bed. The file was on repeat, playing over and over, driving Hanna closer and closer to release. By the second loop she was begging Emily to touch her, to get inside her, to lick her clean, her voice getting louder and breathier all the while. But when the tape started to loop for the fourth time, all Emily touched was herself.

Hanna watched. Hanna watched her play with her breasts, stroke her thighs, part her pussy and slide finger after finger inside, bop up and down just above Hanna’s face and Emily’s cum was dripping onto Hanna’s cheeks and the sex tape was still playing and then Hanna was begging ( _good girl_ ) to eat Emily out, she’d do such a good job, she wouldn’t stop for anything could she please just—

—and then Emily’s clit was victim to Hanna’s hot, wet tongue, and it was so maddening, so arousing, so _dirty_ that Emily came all over that angel face. Spent, she rolled off Hanna just in time to see her climax, see how her cum-soaked mouth opened and a deep fucking _yowl_ of pleasure spilled into the room.

So generous. So generous that Hanna was looking at her with stars in her eyes.

 

After she’d fucked all of them, Emily was queen bee.

 

Fourth, there was Mona. Mona who was meant to come over to Emily’s to study and instead had started making out with her. They were topless in moments and Emily focused on the slow, building heat between her legs, honed in on it so much that when Mona came up for air, took her wrists, and guided them to her skirt, she barely noticed.

“So,” Mona murmured, “are you… excited?”

The whir of the zip on Mona’s skirt seemed so loud. Once the material was sagging around Mona’s hips, Emily placed her hands on the tops of Mona’s thighs, and – slowly now – eased between them.

“Yes.”

As soon as the word left Emily’s mouth, Mona shoved her back onto the bed. _Yes_. A giver ( _but Emily had known that, hadn’t she? Had invited Mona here because she knew Mona was adventurous, she didn’t just take it like Spencer and Arya and Hanna_ ). Mona bent over her, and Emily wrapped her arms around her and pulled her closer, shifting her legs, trying to move Mona’s weight a little further down – maybe they could do scissoring? It didn’t matter; as long as it was quick and dirty, girl on girl—

“What about… obedient?”

—and god, the way cum oozed into Emily’s panties at the thought of … of _that_ was so good. And Mona saw. Mona saw how her breath hitched, how her eyes unfocused, how she writhed in the denim shorts sealed around her pulsing pussy and—

“God, you’re such a slut.”

– _yes_ , Mona sounded delighted. Emily’s pulse was speeding up, adrenaline pumping around her body, and she ran her hands down Mona’s back, pressed their bodies closer together and ground up, pleasure fluttering – no, no, lancing – through her. Mona lifted herself from Emily’s hips to get out of her skirt and Emily’s whimper turned into a moan when she sank back down again. Then Mona was bending over to curl kisses around Emily’s ears, and jaw, and collarbone, murmuring all the while, and Emily listened, pinned to the bed by Mona and the burning desire deep inside of her, barely aware of her answers, just spiralling deeper into bliss. Mona was good at this, so fucking good at—

“Have you ever touched yourself, Em? … you have? … you naughty girl … bet you do it over and over and over again, sliding your fingers in… and out …and in… and out …”

—turning her on, especially when she guided Em’s hands into position and breathed, “touch yourself now – all for me”, and Emily, too conscious of the throbbing need between her legs, obeyed. But Mona was mean. Emily wanted to rip her shorts off and plunge her fingers deep, or have Mona eat her out, or eat Mona out whilst she thrust her fingers deep into the hot, wet, sinful depth of her pussy but she was playing with her breasts instead, rolling them in her hands, flicking her hard nipples, breath catching in her throat, moaning with every little jolt of pleasure she gave herself. And then there was Mona, still on top of her, leaning over her, face just above hers. Mona, whose fingers were rubbing the wet lace of her panties, her eyes half-closed, her mouth parted, her breath coming in short little bursts—

“God, Em, you’re so good, so fucking good.”

—and then Mona had no panties, and Emily was sucking her semi-slick fingers, relishing the sweet taste of cum in her mouth even as she wished it was her pussy wrapped deliciously tight around those fingers. For a moment she wanted that so much that her hands slowed on her breasts. Mona saw, and Emily let out a moan so – so _foreign_ to her ( _so filthy_ ) when Mona pressed a knee right there that Mona let out a small laugh of surprise—

“I didn’t tell you to stop. Still, it’s my turn now.”

—but then Mona’s mouth, lips, tongue, wetness was suddenly around Emily’s nipples, so good that Emily felt the bed, her thoughts, anything but her rising orgasm melt away. But it wasn’t enough. Her fingernails dug into the arched curve of Mona’s back, and she could feel Mona’s cum trickle onto her stomach, feel the odd rough-softness of Mona’s hair there on her hot skin, feel Mona’s mouth work so hard that her back arched up to meet it—

“Please—!”

“You want to come, Em? Already?”

“ _Yes_ , fuck – need to – _oh_ …”

Finally Mona freed her from her shorts, and Emily spread her legs wide without prompting. Mona ran a finger over the patch of cum on Emily’s panties, slowly enough to make her whole body convulse but gently enough to make her beg incoherently. Fuck, Emily was so far gone that the rumble of a car engine outside wasn’t enough to make her think beyond her throbbing pussy. Mona heard it, of course. She was flustered, and wet, and horny, too, but not captive to her pleasure like innocent and demure ( _dirty, panting_ ) Emily was – yet she pulled Emily’s panties down and pushed a finger into Emily’s sopping, clenching pussy… and then another—

“You’re so fucking gay for me, Em. So horny. You’re a dirty, filthy slut and you _love it_.”

—because she knew. Mona had known from the beginning. The front door opened and shut and Mona kept going. She pushed a third finger into Emily’s too-tight pussy, twisting all three until Emily gave the most delicious whine. So hot – so fucking _hot_ and the heat was building, mounting—

“You’re crazy beautiful, Em. So fucking desperate.”

— _oh God_ , Mona was lapping her up now, lapping up her cum with her tongue, thrusting her fingers into her in time with the footsteps on the stairs and Emily was unravelling so fast, was so – so fucking _wet_ , so full, clenching clenching _clenching_ so much that all she could do was plead, beg, demand more, faster, _more_ , _faster_ —

“ _Don’t stop don’t fucking stop_ –”

—and in the fraction of a second before her orgasm ripped a victory cry from her throat, blurred her vision, made every single fucking atom in her body sing with pleasure she saw her mother’s horrified face. Then she came, viciously, all the harder.


End file.
